Ah, hush . . . A shadow falls across the hawthorn trees, And like a rush Of summer rain, A thrush Lets fall upon the first faint morning breeze A chain of notes like scattered beads, As crystal as the ones that edge The monkshood at my knees. Quiet . . . After his startling song's bright rhetoric, After its riot, Silence. A silence like a new-trimmed wick That waits the touch of flame; Silence that holds the mystery of night; Silence that seems the secret of all light; That sense of Presence, calm, divine, yet lowly, Which seems to make a woodland silence holy -- Ah, hush . . . Again, The thrush! The sun has touched the waiting wick And all the dreaming world is quick. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TIMES THREE [ - LOVE] by JEAN INGELOW VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1884 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI A JAPANESE FAN by MARGARET VELEY SONNET WRITTEN IN THE FALL OF 1914: 2 by GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY FOAM STRAY by JOSEPH AUSLANDER THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 104. WRITTEN AT FLORENCE: 2 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |